The Rejection at the Reflecting Pool
by Fangirlofrandomness
Summary: An introspective look at Booth, Brennan and Hannah on that fateful night when Booth proposed. Starts off with Daredevil in the Mold scenes, develops into the way I think that night went down. A little angsty.
1. The Reflection in the Pool

(A/N: YAY MY VERY FIRST BONES FANFIC! I've been watching the show and reading the fanfics for over a year, but I never felt like I knew the characters well enough to write about them. But now, I'm at the point where I've watched each episode thrice over at least, I've seen the deleted scenes and whatnot, and I feel like they're my best friends. And this scene - the Daredevil in the Mold scene - it was inspiring to the point where I couldn't rest until I banged this out. Oh, and also, I like Hannah. I'm a BnB shipper, all the way, but I like Hannah as a person. I think her character's very well-developed, and I especially like her relationship with Brennan. So she's not the villain here - not the good guy, either, of course, but a human being. Just as human as Bones or Booth. I hope you give it a chance, and, dare I say it, I hope you enjoy this little piece.)

"Hey, soldier."

The words cut over the gentle lapping of water in the Reflecting Pool, and Booth turned around, a smile already on his lips. Hannah was here. And she looked even more beautiful than she had this morning, if that was even possible. "Whoa-oh," Booth chuckled appreciatively, glad to see his girlfriend at last.

"You looking for a good time?" she asked playfully, twirling around to show off her new coat.

"Yeah, look – at – you! Wow!" Booth exclaimed, his eyes taking in not just the new coat but the bright eyes and golden hair of the person wearing the coat. As he kissed her, he wondered how he had been so fortunate to find someone like Hannah. Being with her, moments like this made him feel like there had never been anyone else. That those other two times had never happened. That this time, it was going to work out all right.

Hannah looked back at Seeley, and was struck yet again by the eager loyalty in his eyes. It was a quality she had yet to find in any other man, a sort of shining devotion, as if his life's mission was to protect her from the world. It always made her feel slightly guilty, a constant reminder that Seeley gave her much more of himself than she could ever give him. "You didn't answer the question," Hannah pouted prettily just as her lips touched his.

"I – um," Booth stammered, a broad smile stretching over his features as he realized here was the segue he had been looking for. He had planned on waiting a few more days, or at least a few more hours, but her words felt like a sign, and suddenly he couldn't wait even another second.

"I – I thought I was looking for a good time, but the truth is, I think I'm in for a little more," Booth told Hannah, the words tumbling out in a rush. He barely had time to register that those last eight words had been exactly what he had told Rebecca about ten years ago, after she became pregnant with Parker.

"Don't underestimate a good time," Hannah retorted lightly, trying not to let the smile leave her lips. This sounded suspiciously like a…proposal, of sorts, but she wasn't allowing herself to jump to conclusions. Last time she'd thought that, he'd just brought home new toothbrushes. _Maybe now it's a matching bath set with blue toilet seat covers, _she hoped desperately.

Booth looked down at Hannah, her words barely registering in his head. "Yeah, I was gonna – " he began, then smiled and shook himself out of it. He couldn't jump straight into _Yeah, I was gonna ask you to marry me_. That sounded more like a joke than a proposal.

"You know what, I was gonna wait, but – I, um, I love you, Hannah," he started over, clutching the little velvet box tightly in his hands. There, her smile widened a bit, that was more like it, that was a good beginning for this sort of thing. Even though something in that last sentence sounded a little off, like he'd gotten the tune right but sung the wrong words. _Don't be stupid_, he mentally chided himself. _Third time lucky, remember?_

"When I met you, I really honestly wondered if I was ever going to meet – anyone again," Booth continued, ducking his head down for a moment so there was no chance Hannah could see how much that last rejection – Bones' rejection – still stung, despite all that had happened between.

_Oh no, _Hannah thought, that sense of foreboding increasing. She was right. Seeley was proposing. There was no other reason why he'd tell her he loved her like that. And there was no way she could say no without absolutely breaking his heart. His words confirmed it – he'd already gone through one such rejection before – what would he do when she turned him down as well?

Because she had to turn him down. There was absolutely no doubt in Hannah's mind on that matter. She loved Seeley, unquestionably, but marriage – marriage wasn't just love, it was commitments, it was family, and, knowing Seeley, he'd want kids, and she just couldn't give him all that. She wasn't ready for marriage – she didn't know if she ever would be. She wasn't the marrying kind, she'd told him before. She thought they'd gotten that clear from the start. And yet, here they were.

"Seeley," Hannah began frantically, hoping to stop him before it was too late. But there it was. The ring. It was huge. And sparkly. And a symbol of lifetime's worth of commitments – something that intimidated Hannah much more than any gun-wielding terrorist in Afghanistan ever did. "Oh my god," she muttered, more to herself than to him as she realized how much thought – and money – he had put into this.

Booth held the box as though it held a fragile egg rather than a ring. "Marry me," he said simply, looking eagerly up at Hannah. "I want you to be my wife," he clarified, unable to suppress the little smile that came onto his face at that word. Wife. He had never had a wife. Father, mother, brother, son, friends, partner, yes. Wife, never.

Hannah stared up at Seeley's face, nonplussed by the turn the evening had taken. "I – " she stammered, unable to form a coherent sentence. How was she going to explain that yes, she loved him too, but, no, she couldn't possibly marry him?

"Oh, Seeley," Hannah sighed. The feeling of guilt, of shame, weighed down upon her, even heavier than before. It was irrational; technically, she had done nothing wrong. But still, the night would end with her hurting someone she loved. "I love you – I really do. But I can't."

Booth was still waiting for the smile, the nod, the 'yes' that would make all the past 'no's' fade into oblivion. But it didn't come. Slowly, with a horrifying sense of having made a complete fool out of himself, he realized that she, too, was saying no.

And her reason? "I'm just not the marrying kind."

Of all the bullshit in the world. That was even worse than Rebecca's "I'm too proud to marry just because I'm knocked up", or even Bones' "I don't want to hurt you, so I can't even give you a chance."

"Well, I am," Booth reminded her. And he wanted to marry and settle down, dammit. Wasn't this what men were supposed to do? When the hell had it gotten so hard to get a woman to say yes?

"I know, I know you are," Hannah hastily interrupted him. On some level, she had known this would come between them someday. She just hadn't anticipated how soon it would be. "I just thought we had more time before we got to this."

More time for what? More time to get to know each other. More time to do things that married people couldn't do. More time to change his mind. More time before she left.

More time. That was the one thing that Booth didn't have. Sweets was right. Most men Booth's age were married. Hodgins was married - about to be a father. Sweets, who was more than ten years younger than Booth, was semi-engaged to Daisy. Hell, even Booth's little brother was engaged. It was about time for Booth to get a move on too.

"I'm sorry," Hannah whispered, torn. The usual devoted glow in his eyes had been snuffed out like a candle in a gale once the word 'can't' had left her mouth. His expression was the worst – a dull, uncomprehending look. The journalist inside her struggled to describe it, but the closest she could come up with was 'devastated,' and even that seemed like the understatement of the century. "I'm so sorry."

She was sorry. The fact registered in Booth's brain as sincere. She was sincerely saying sorry after sincerely rejecting his proposal. It was true, she hadn't ever lied to him about anything. He had known from the beginning she wouldn't take kindly to the idea. But somewhere deep inside, he'd always assumed that living together, meeting his kid, seeing how great his life was, would somehow change her mind.

That was why he had never given her a reason to say no. He had never told her the worst parts – not about his long-gone gambling addiction, not about the coma – nothing that would scare her away. He had presented to her a man any woman would love to marry. _But then why was she refusing him?_

Because it wasn't like she was Bones. Hannah knew society, she knew it was an expected convention for two people who were already living together to someday get a move on and get married. She had to have known, she had to have figured that this wasn't long coming. And yet, she was saying no.

Booth could see that, in her mind, it was already determined. She would not get married, and that was that. It was an iron will that Booth had seen three too many times. But he stopped himself from comparing Hannah to Bones, or to Rebecca. It would be too painful. It already was too painful to look at Hannah and experience that déjà vu thrice over. So he turned away, staring back into the Reflecting Pool at a reject holding a ring.

Watching Seeley turn his back so decisively on her made Hannah feel even more wretched than she already did. He wasn't going to laugh this off; she had known Booth long enough to realize that. But to be so shocked that he couldn't even look at her, or say something to her, even if it was to yell – it cut deeply.

She hated this feeling, this strange sense of shame. Seeley Booth was a good man. He didn't deserve to be rejected yet again, especially not by her, someone he had trusted. Someone he loved.

Slowly, hesitantly, Hannah approached Seeley's side, and tried not to feel hurt that he flinched slightly as her shoulder grazed his. "What happens now?" she asked. But both of them knew she really meant, _Are we still together?_

Booth didn't really know the answer to either question. He wasn't the guy with the answers, he was the guy with the action. Who took gambles. Who did things without thinking. Maybe that's why everything fell to pieces for him. _But even if I thought about it for ages,_ Booth realized, _I could never be together with Hannah after this._ He couldn't have her playing the role of his 'wife,' living in his house, sharing his bed, if she never intended to actually become his wife.

"What do you think happens now?" Booth asked, more than a trace of bitterness in his voice. Two people living together had two options – eventually get married, or eventually break up. Marriage had been negated. Only one option left.

The tone in his voice was one Hannah recognized, but refused to acknowledge. "Can't we just go back?" she pleaded instead, her voice getting huskier as she held back tears. "I'll walk in here. You tell me how good I look. I say "Thank you." We kiss. We'll have a nice dinner like - like this never happened. We - we can go back," she told Seeley desperately, trying to convince herself with her own words.

Booth looked at Hannah, wondering if this was really the woman that, five minutes ago, he'd thought he loved. The hope in her face made him even angrier. Those four words – "We can go back" – had infuriated him more than anything else Hannah had said. He felt his opinion of her plunge drastically. Did she think his feelings were that immaterial, that he could just forget another rejected proposal? Did she think he was really that content with just drifting along, being Hannah's boyfriend, but never wanting anything more?

Now here was where Hannah and Bones were very different. Booth couldn't help but make the comparison. Bones would never have asked to go back. Bones would never lie to herself – or to him - like that. She knew how to face up to the consequences of her actions. How had he thought of Hannah as anything similar to Bones? How had he thought of her as better than Bones? How had he ever thought of her as the one for him, the future Mrs. Booth?

Hannah wondered how, even after Seeley finally met her eyes, she felt even worse than before. She had done something unpardonable, Hannah could see that from the tight, drawn lines in his face. "Okay," she nodded, looking away from Seeley. There was really no use in her talking right now. Everything that escaped her mouth was the wrong thing to say. "Your turn. What happens now?"

Pride stopped Booth from answering. He couldn't admit it out loud, how big of a mistake he'd made. Inviting her to live with him, introducing her to his son, _telling her about Bones_. Oh god. He'd bared his soul about even _that thing_ to her, the thing he considered his biggest secret, even bigger than his gambling or his tumor, all to prove his devotion to her. He'd broken that 'what's ours is ours' rule for her, he'd hurt Bones in countless different ways, all for a woman who _wouldn't marry him, dammit._

Hannah stared hard at his face, willing his head to turn, to say something cute like, _It doesn't matter, baby, as long as you're with me._ Something that would give her some claim over him again. But he continued to look down at the Pool, and his taut silhouette told her everything his mouth didn't.

"I'll get my stuff out of your place," she whispered, praying that this would be the wake-up call, that he'd turn and say that wasn't what he wanted.

"How much time do you need?" The answer stung Hannah a bit, but that guilty feeling inside her told her Seeley was probably hurting even more.

"To get out of your place… or to get over you?" she asked, looking at him with one last futile hope.

Booth kept his face immobile, resisting the urge to retort cuttingly. It wasn't that hard to get over people. He'd done it at least twice before. He was going to have to do it again.

Hannah held her breath, waiting for something…but something never came. Letting her breath free in a single whooshing sigh, she turned away from the most incredible man she had ever met. As she stepped away, she heard an answering sigh, a sigh full of pain that wrenched at her heart once more. She swiveled around, but Seeley still stood as before, pointedly looking away. But something about him, maybe the way his shoulders sagged a little like a heavy load was burdening him, emboldened her to step close once more.

"I do love you, Seeley," Hannah whispered, and she knew it was true. "I don't think we're done," she pressed on. His shoulders stiffened imperceptibly. "But I can see we're done for now," Hannah concluded sadly. Her throat hurt from repressing her tears, her guilt.

She felt ashamed, dirty, at having rejected Seeley. But she also knew that the morning she woke up married would be the worst day of her life. She wished there were some other way to prove her love, something that didn't require lifelong commitment. "I'm just not the marrying kind," she faltered once more, a vain attempt to explain herself.

"You already said that." Booth's voice was sharp, even to his own ear. But all he really wanted was for Hannah to go, to leave him alone with his despair. And maybe a drink or two.

"I've said it plenty of times before," Hannah replied, feeling the need to defend herself. "I guess…you weren't listening." And that, right there, was the summary of their relationship. Neither really listening to what the other had to say.

The truth of her words struck Booth, and he realized, not for the first time, how much he had misjudged Hannah. He had idealized her, made her out to be a sort of Brennan 2.0, intelligent, beautiful, confident, but with no walls, no bars between her and the rest of humanity. Only now was he realizing that the bars had been there the whole time – they just blended in a little better.

Hannah closed her eyes, wishing with all her might that when she opened them, she might see a different Seeley, the Seeley of ten minutes ago who told her she was beautiful and kissed her. But when she opened her eyes, the same despondent man stood before her. And she suddenly realized that no matter what, she would never be the one who could make him feel better.

And so, she left. This time, she didn't turn back, because she didn't want him to see the tears streaking down her face as she left behind her yet another life.

Booth heard her leave, and suddenly, he felt old. Tired. Used. His head bowed down and his gaze came to rest upon his hands, still clutched around the stupid ring box. And suddenly, something Bones had told him a few weeks ago surfaced to his mind. Something about the universe sending each person dim, staticky messages. Only this time, the message was neither dim nor staticky. Three strikes, you're out. Booth would never propose again.

And with that last angry thought, he flung the ring box into the deep dark pool, watching intently as it splashed down and sank through the water like his heart.

(A/N: Sigh. Poor Booth. His face at the end killed me. And then his talk with Bones...sigh... which will be coming up in a chapter or two! Bones is in the next one - it's when Hannah calls Bones to let her know what happened. Please review, and tell me what you think! Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed!)


	2. The Understanding in the Departure

(A/N: Ok, so I know I said Bones would be in this one, but I got to the end of this scene, and it seemed like a chapter to me. It's about Hannah, and how she comes to the decision to call Brennan. Enjoy!)

Hannah was good at leaving. It was one of the things she did best. She had left so many different pasts behind her, sometimes even she herself had trouble recalling them. But this time, it was a little more…complicated. This time, there was a Seeley Booth and a Temperance Brennan involved.

Even as she had walked away from Seeley, hastily brushing away tears from her cheeks, Hannah knew Seeley was hurting even more than her. She knew this like she knew that politics was corrupt, and it made her feel worse. Feel guiltier. As if she had no right to grieve when he was so hurt himself.

God, how she loved that man. She loved his courage, his openness. His ability to brave the world and give her a chance to be with him for half a year, even after he had been rejected by another woman. She had been so touched by that gesture, especially after learning about him and Temperance. She had been so proud to be his girlfriend.

But marrying him…that was another story. Hannah couldn't marry, and she especially couldn't marry Seeley. That would mean being forever bound to a man she knew was better than her, in every way imaginable. A man whose very faults made him stronger. A man she could never live up to, no matter what she did.

And so, she'd broken his heart. To her knowledge, she was the third woman to do so. Her predecessor had been Seeley's partner, Dr. Temperance Brennan. 'Bones,' to Seeley. A woman she had constantly heard about from their very first meeting in Afghanistan. According to what Seeley had told her in Afghanistan, Brennan was the most brilliant forensic anthropologist in the world, a good friend, and a caring individual. What he hadn't told Hannah at first was that Brennan was also someone who had turned Seeley down, only to realize her mistake when it was too late. Which was approximately right after Hannah had elbowed her way into the picture.

And nearly immediately after Temperance's change of heart, Booth had told Hannah everything. He was beyond reproach as her boyfriend. There was nothing to get angry at him over, nothing to forgive. No drama. Almost like the calm before the storm. There was, of course, an awkward conversation with Brennan, but then it was all over, seemingly forgotten by them both, and they continued to muddle on, 'just partners.'

But Hannah couldn't really forget. It had nagged her in the back of the mind sometimes, when she lay awake in Seeley's arms and knew he wasn't dreaming about her. How could they not feel the tension between them? It was palpable to just about everyone else. Had there ever been such a connection between her and Seeley? Maybe in Afghanistan, where the entire atmosphere was so adrenaline-drenched that some of it couldn't help but seep into their relationship. But not here, in Washington D.C. This was Brennan's turf.

Maybe that was why, even as two hearts broke simultaneously by the Reflecting Pool, Hannah still had the sense that she was doing something right. Maybe she wasn't the one for Booth. Certainly not the one who had any chance of making Seeley feel any better tonight. There was only one woman in the entire world who possibly had a chance of doing that.

And as clear as crystal, Hannah realized what a big mistake she'd made, by coming between the two. She should have left the moment she suspected how much they cared for each other. How had they managed?, she wondered with awe. To keep seeing each other every day, even though her presence erected a formidable barrier between them. To continue on as partners even though each had rejected the other at some point. There was no doubt - they loved each other.

Yes, Hannah had made a mistake. Hannah had _been_ a mistake. Hannah was the reason Seeley might never love again.

But Hannah was also an exceptionally resourceful woman. And Hannah knew who could best fix this situation.

And so, Hannah whipped out her cellphone and dialed Brennan's number.

(A/N: Now, next chapter has definitely got Bones in it! Please review if you have anything to say, even if it's Hannah-hating! Thanks for reading!)


	3. The Urgency in the Call

(A/N: Hey there! Well, I'm really pleased with the fact that I got five story alerts and a favorite story addition, all within eight hours or so. Yay! I uploaded extra fast so you guys got a reward :) But I'm also a little sad that nobody took the time to leave a quick review. I know my stories are far from perfect, and even if it's something you didn't like or something you disagree on, tell me! I'm a nice person. And it makes me that much more eager to update...Anyway, enjoy)

There was a time when Temperance Brennan hardly ever did her own dishes. There had been no need. Nearly all her meals had been consumed in the diner or at the bar, or from biodegradable cardboard takeout cartons that made the kitchen smell of tofu for hours afterward.

But that was before she had left for the Maluku Islands, before Special Agent Seeley Booth had gone into a war-torn Afghanistan. And sure, they'd come back, but he'd brought an addition with him – a girlfriend, a reporter named Hannah Burley.

And somehow, those after-case drinks, the fries at the diner, the meals at Wong Foo's, got more and more infrequent. She tried not to miss those times, tried to rationalize that eating at home was more economical anyways, but found it was surprisingly harder than she had expected. But in any case, here she was, Temperance Brennan, clearing up after her dinner, wiping her own dishes until they were pristine, trying not to indulge in nostalgia for days that were long past.

It was a fact she just needed to accept, Brennan told herself sternly. Booth had found another woman, a good, smart, bright woman, and it was considered intrusive and frowned upon to claim more time with her partner. Girlfriend trumped work partners, even a socially inept person like herself knew that. And yet – sometimes, she couldn't help but feel that she had more right over him than Hannah, seven years of knowing him, as opposed to Hannah's seven months. It gave her a strange sense of satisfaction, to still be able to count their relationship in terms of months. As though it made their relationship even slightly more transient.

That was when the phone rang. Glancing at the caller ID flashing the name 'Hannah', Brennan wondered yet again at the common occurrence of someone calling you right when you thought about them. She had seen an interesting study about it the other day, published by the Institute of Noetic Sciences – she had to dig up the article soon.

"Hello Hannah, how are you?" Brennan answered, smiling into the receiver. She liked Hannah a lot, even though, anthropologically speaking, she should dislike such an obvious equal who was competing for men in the same age group as Brennan was, especially given her recent…realizations. But Hannah was a good friend to Brennan, and she couldn't help but like the reporter's friendly, down-to-earth manner.

"Not so good, actually," Hannah replied shakily, and Brennan was immediately concerned. She could tell that Hannah, whose courage and independence Brennan had always appreciated, had been crying.

"Hannah, what's wrong? Are you alright?" Brennan asked, confused. She and Hannah were friends, yes, but she hadn't anticipated herself as the first person Hannah would call in times of trouble.

_Are you alright?_ The words made Hannah close her eyes in despair and sink a little more into the leather of the taxi seat. No, she wasn't alright. Her insides hurt. Her throat was scratchy from suppressed emotion, and she really wanted somebody to understand. Someone who would give her a hug and a glass of hot milk.

"I'm…fine," Hannah lied easily. "It's Seeley."

Those two words were enough to make Brennan's heart race, even as her brain cautioned and reasoned and refrained from jumping to conclusions. "What happened?" Brennan asked, her voice sharper now.

The change in tone didn't go unnoticed by Hannah. _She still loves him_, Hannah noted absently, and then stifled a tiny jealous part of her deep inside. That was a good thing. Seeley needed all the love he could get at the moment.

"We – we broke up."

Both women were silent for a few moments. Then, Brennan cautiously offered up, "Oh, Hannah. I'm so sorry."

It didn't sound insincere, Hannah noticed. And then she realized it was because Temperance was completely sincere. She was genuinely sorry for Hannah. She hadn't even realized yet that this meant Seeley was 'available' again. And that made another tear of shame trickle down Hannah's cheek.

"I wish I knew what else to say in cases like this," Brennan continued, hesitating between her words. "Would – would you like to come to my apartment?" Hannah truly sounded horrible, and even though Brennan wasn't at all familiar with this department of social conventions, she was determined to be the best friend possible to Hannah. Especially if Booth had broken up with her. That sting of rejection was one that Brennan still felt keenly and could sympathize with, even though it had been nearly a month since that conversation on that rainy night.

"Oh, no," Hannah hastily refused, even though a sizeable part of her wanted to accept. "I – I have to move out. Of Booth's apartment."

There was a short pause as both women digested this fact. This was it. The end of 'Seeley and Hannah'. And Brennan found herself feeling slightly guilty at having counted their relationship down in months for so long. Even though she knew scientifically that it wasn't the cause for the breakup, irrationally, Brennan felt like that petty little indulgence had taken its toll somehow.

"That's not really what I'm calling about," Hannah finally broke the silence. "It's just…I'm worried for Seeley." In a few poignant phrases, the journalist outlined the whole evening out for Temperance, using as many facts as she could, avoiding describing his face, or her feelings, or anything too painful and raw.

She didn't need to describe anything. Brennan could see the scene playing out right before her eyes, a warped, distorted version of the night when Booth had asked her to take a chance, on the steps of the Hoover building. She could see the pain in his face, the blind hopelessness, magnified at the third rejection of his life.

Logically speaking, Brennan knew the heart was a muscle that only swelled under certain medical conditions, but it felt like her own heart was swelling from the sorrow and pain that Booth was probably feeling.

She felt a surge of anger towards Hannah. She had warned the reporter, after all, when Hannah had first moved in with Booth, that Booth wasn't someone who did casual flings. She had told Hannah that Booth would give her everything he had, that Hannah should be sure, should be careful not to hurt him. And yet, Hannah had hurt him anyway.

"Hannah...that was not a good idea. Booth isn't - "

"I know I messed up, Temperance," Hannah cut her off, an edge to her voice. "I know I… screwed things up majorly. For him and me and you. And…I know, out of all the people in the world, I'm the last one who should be asking you for a favor. But I'm doing it anyways, because maybe that will make things a little more right."

Instantly, Brennan felt bad about blaming Hannah. It would be like the frying pan calling the fire hot, she realized. After all, just under a year ago, hadn't Brennan herself done exactly what Hannah had done? At least Hannah had tried having a relationship with Booth - Brennan had skittered away at just the idea of 'giving it a shot.'

Taking a deep breath, and then exhaling through the nose, Brennan finally spoke. "Oh, Hannah," she sighed. "I'm so, so sorry."

Hannah felt tired, numb, dead. But Temperance's sincere tone lit a spark of hope inside her. "So you'll do it, then?" she confirmed.

"Do what?" Brennan asked, now completely confused.

"Find See – find Booth. And stay with him." Hannah gave a shaky laugh. "I know I sound bad, but I bet you a million dollars he's in a worse condition."

_That was debatable_, Brennan found herself thinking. Hannah sounded pretty bad. And she knew from experience on both sides, that being the rejector took just as harsh a toll as the converse. Rejecting someone you were close to meant not only that same feeling of heartbreak, but also a sizeable amount of guilt at having caused that heartbreak in the other person.

"Hannah – " Brennan began, not sure how to convey that she had no idea what to do.

"No, Temperance, he _needs_ you," Hannah insisted. She exhaled, long and hard, steeling herself to say the hardest words of the night. "He needs _you_ – you in particular. His…partner. His friend. Not me. Not Hodgins or Sweets. And I know this must be hard on you, but can't you – can't you do it for your partner?"

"I – I won't know what to say," Brennan floundered, searching for a good excuse. She didn't want to see Booth like that again, she didn't want to feel that pain again, when she realized it was too late. Booth had moved on, and she had begun to do the same.

Hannah sighed again. God, they were both so stubborn. "He loves you, Temperance. And you love him back. You can keep dancing around it, you can keep ignoring it for as long as you like, doesn't change the facts."

There was a long silence. And then Hannah found herself saying, with the weak chuckle of someone who had absolutely nothing to lose, "You know, if I'd said yes, he'd have woken up someday and seen me for what I really am. And he'd have compared it to you, and he'd have been unhappy. And he'd keep being a gentleman, and he'd do the right thing, but he'd always be unhappy. And I… I would have been unhappy too."

"But – " Hannah added, shifting the phone to her other ear, "You're different, Temperance. You know him better than anyone else in the world. You're partners. Isn't this what partners do for each other?"

Brennan still couldn't say anything. She had no idea what to do. But somehow, without her brain sending any signals whatsoever, her hand moved of its own accord, reaching for her jacket and keys. She was going after her partner. Going to stay with him and comfort him no matter how much it hurt her.

"I'm on my way out."

(A/N: Go Bones! And goodbye, Hannah! Unless I change my mind, that should be the last we hear of her. So...what did you think? Tell me everything! Next part's going to be the actual conversation in the Founding Fathers - so looking forward to writing that one!)


	4. The Partner in the Bar

(A/N: Hi, there! Sorry it took me so long to update...life has been busy. Anyways, here's the much anticipated, Booth-and-Bones conversation in the bar. Enjoy!)

_Strike three, you're out_. That was the phrase that had been running through Booth's mind for hours, ever since he first sat down at the bar stool. He could almost hear the stadium of the world booing and shouting at his failed attempts at finding happiness. He grabbed the glass and downed the alcohol in one gulp, grateful for the gurgling. It blocked out the sound of his brain working.

"Are you drunk?"

The voice didn't surprise him at all. Of course Bones would show up now. One glance at her face showed that she knew what had happened. How interesting.

"Relatively," Booth replied shortly, and heard his mental version of Bones go, _I don't know what that means_. "Relatively, I'm drunk, meaning, I'm drunker than usual. But no…I am not a drunk."

Meaning he was not his father. He didn't get so full of booze that he beat his family. He did all the good things. _But who was the one who got married, Seeley?_, his old man seemed to cackle in his head, and Booth blinked vigorously to stop it.

"You sound…something," Brennan observed, wishing the right word could, for once, pop out of her mouth. This is what she had meant when she told Hannah she had no idea what to say.

Booth made no reply, other than a short sigh through his nose. _I feel...something_.

_Right, then_, Brennan decided. _This hovering around the hedge isn't going to work._ "Hannah called me," she dared to say.

The reaction was immediate. "Just…" Booth jerked his hand away, trying to cut off her words. He didn't want to hear that name. Never ever again. "Really, I-I… I don't want to talk about that, okay? I'm just… I'm over…I'm over it. I'm done, okay?"

The trembling in his voice was heartcrushing. Brennan set her teeth together, observing his wet eyes with sadness. Hannah was right. Somebody this distraught shouldn't be alone. And, for some strange reason, Brennan felt that, for her own peace of mind, this is where she belonged. She could remember with great clarity all the times she had been crying, when she had needed a shoulder, and there was Booth, always there for her. It would be ungrateful, to say the least, if she didn't stay with him through his time of need.

"So," she couldn't help asking. "What happens next?" The best way to overcome moments like these, she had learned, was to think of the future. To face reality, make a plan, and continue. She didn't know how to voice what she was thinking. That Hannah leaving meant they finally had a shot. At becoming something more. But the thought terrified her too much to say out loud.

"What happens next?" The words rang strangely in Booth's ears. Hannah had asked that. _No, she hadn't_, he corrected himself. She had asked, _what happens now_. But Bones, typical Bones, never one to dwell too long on the present, had jumped ahead to the future.

But what did she expect to happen next? Just because she had finally realized, a year too late, that she wanted what he was offering, he was going to come running into her arms? It was too late for that. He was tired of being refused and denied and rejected, and he was done with all these crap relationships.

"I mean, you like evidence, right, Bones?" That was what she was all about. She always wanted proof that relationships could last. _She was a scientist, not a damn gambler, remember?_ "Well, here's the evidence. The evidence is that there is something wrong _here_." _Something wrong with me. Why else would three separate women reject me for three separate stupid reasons?_

"Now, I… I fell in love with a woman." It hurt to talk about Rebecca, even. And that was years ago. "I had a kid." Parker. The only good thing that had come out of this whole goddamned mess. "She doesn't want to marry me. Well…" Evidence number one.

Bones bit her lip. This was hurting him even more than she had realized. She had always known that his and Rebecca's relationship hadn't exactly ended well, but it was one thing to know and another thing to witness him suffering under it like that.

"And then, the next woman," Booth continued, careful not to look at Bones. This one was the worst, maybe because this woman was perhaps the most...frustrating. This was the woman whose timing was perfect enough to feel something for him right when he'd decided to move on. He didn't want to talk about this one either. "Well, she's…"

And Bones understood, with a shock of clarity like the first plunge into icy water. "Me." She completed his sentence quietly, but suddenly, her eyes were wet too.

"Yeah, and now…" Booth trailed off. There was nothing left to say. Strike three. He saw, out of the corner of his eye, Bones' stricken expression. _Good_, he thought savagely, even as it reminded him of a car in a rainy night, dropping off a broken girl with a tear-stained face. _She deserves to suffer_, he reminded himself, thinking of what had happened the steps of the FBI building instead.

"I mean…what is it with women who just don't want what I'm offering here?" The words fell out of his mouth without any conscious thought. The faces of the three women were blurring together in his mind, all with tears in their eyes, all with the words _I can't_ forming on their lips.

Even with her extensive vocabulary, Brennan couldn't come up with the right word for that look on his face. It was a mix of fury, desperation, anger, helplessness, and every other emotion that so rarely crossed Booth's face that it scared her when it all appeared jumbled together, like now. "Booth –" Brennan started, trying to come up with an explanation, any rationalization that would take that blank, desperate look off his face.

"No," Booth cut her off. He couldn't stand one of her squinty logical conversations right now. And the pity in her voice was too much to bear. "Just… You know what? Drink. Drink," he ordered, pushing a glass at her, and feeling not at all better when she quietly complied.

"I'm just_ mad_," he hissed at the countertop as he slammed down his own drink. That was the right word. It felt good to say. After two clean rounds of nodding, and understanding, and "I'm fine, it's your decision"-ing, it felt good to lash out. "I'm just really mad at all of you, all right? I'm just mad."

He didn't miss the hurt expression on her face. But it felt good to make her hurt. She had had no problem making him hurt, after all.

She supposed she deserved it. She had rejected him, after all. But to be grouped with Rebecca and Hannah…Brennan felt like she had just been demoted from best friend to worst enemy. Worse than that, because in all honestly, she knew she deserved much more than he had said.

"Okay, so…you want to know how this is gonna work? Okay, this is how this is gonna work. Me and you are partners. That's what we do. We're partners." _Just partners. _"All right, and I love that. I think that's great."

_Was it just her, or did he seem less than enthusiastic? _Cold fear gripped at her heart. _Did he want to dissolve their partnership?_

"And, uh, we-we're good people who catch bad people, right?"

Brennan nodded along, not bothering to correct his grammatical errors, wondering where this was going. It didn't sound like he wanted to stop being partners. If he did…she wouldn't know what to do. Their partnership was…very important. Not just to her, but for the good of the general public.

"Yeah, and-and… and we argue, we-we go back and forth, we're partners, and sometimes after we solve a case, we come here, and we celebrate. That's what we do. We celebrate." Except when there was nothing to celebrate. Like now. Then he came here to get drunk alone. _But then why was she here tonight? _But Booth blocked that thought off. It didn't matter whether she was here or not. _No difference_, he told himself firmly.

"So, as far as I can see, that is what happens next." _In other words, nothing._ That was what was going to happen, and that was what he wanted. Nothing. He was tired of women and expecting something and getting nothing. It was far better to be clear from the beginning - nothing wanted, nothing gained.

"Are you okay with that?" he asked suddenly, looking at Bones right in the eye properly. Her eyes were huge and glassy with a film of unshed tears. He quickly stifled the guilt inside him.

_Was she okay with that?_ Brennan could think of no reason to answer no. It was the rational answer. An uncomplicated partnership would be ideal for optimal working conditions. But she couldn't help but feel like she was missing another chance - it felt like she was running after a bus, trying to catch it, but it just kept speeding away.

Booth could tell, just from her stricken face, that her answer to his question was a huge, resounding _no_. No, she was not okay with just being partners. And the thought made his heart hammer faster in his chest.

_No, _he reminded himself, Hannah's rejection still fresh in his memory. Just partners had been exactly what she had wanted a year ago, he remembered. This was only what was best, what was logical. What was right.

"Great, because, you know, if you are, I tell you what. You stay here and you have a drink with me. All right, maybe, uh, we have a little small talk, chitchat. And if you're not, well…you can leave."

The last three words seemed to echo through the near-empty bar. It was an ultimatum of the worst kind. Brennan had no idea what to say. What to choose.

Booth didn't dare look up at Bones. He felt…numb. One woman had already left him tonight, what difference would another make?

"There's the door. And tomorrow I'll find you a new FBI guy." He took a deep gulp of his drink, hoping she hadn't noticed how much his voice shook. As the silence stretched on, he wondered dimly who she would be partnered up with after he left.

Brennan looked at him with a dim flash of understanding. This was his equivalent of what she had said a year ago. Either partnership, or nothing. "Those are my only choices?"

"Yeah," Booth replied firmly. "Those are your only choices." He couldn't handle any more of this sorta-partners, sorta-in-love crap anymore. Time to cut loose. Either way was fine with him. He could handle being just partners – hell, he'd done it for six years now! And if Bones couldn't handle that – well, fine then. No partnership. Good with him.

Only choices. One: Partnership. Two: Nothing. It was barely a choice. There was nothing Brennan wouldn't do to protect that partnership. It had been like this for years now. Even if she wanted to, she couldn't bring herself to destroy what had created some of the most fulfilling, most exciting, _best_ years of her life.

"Then I'll have a drink."

At her words, he let out a quiet breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. This feeling - it felt like when the doctor set his broken arm - it hurt badly at first, but after the first pain of talking about it all, the ache reduced to a dull throbbing. He still felt crappy, yes, but somehow a little less angry. Because she had seen him as broken and angry as he had ever gotten, and she still hadn't left. He'd hurt her and pushed her away, and she still hadn't left. He'd nearly _made_ her leave, and she still hadn't left.

It was a lesson Booth had taught Bones many times over the years, but this was the first time she had been able to reciprocate it.

_Not everybody left._

(A/N: Whew! Poor poor Booth! And Bones! But hey, they fixed themselves at last, right? That's what my next story's going to be about – how they handle this new pregnancy thing they got going on right now. Anyway, I might add another chapter later about how I think the rest of the night goes, but this is it for today, I think! Please drop me a review, if you could, and tell me what you thought – I'd like to get better as a writer, and that only happens when you tell me what I'm doing wrong. So please – for the sake of good writing – REVIEW! :D)


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